Red Road
by lysjelonken
Summary: Lisbon gets fired by Hightower and leaves Sacramento. Just in time for Jane to realize his true feelings for her... Where could she have gone? And how will he get rid of Agent Andrea Whitman, her horrible replacement? JISBON! Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

**The fic is set somewhere after Hightower arrived, back when she was still very evil to Lisbon . **

**Disclaimer: None belongs to me. Nothing. Really, it's depressing.\**

_CBI headquarters, Agent Madeleine Hightower's Office, after hours_

"I'm very sorry; Agent Lisbon, but you've left me no choice."

Agent Teresa Lisbon's face was one of pure horror. She knew it would happen eventually, but now that's its actually happening it knocked the wind right out of her and left only one question in her mind:

_Why?_

"You are hereby formally relieved of duty as a state agent. Please leave your badge and gun." Hightower looked downwards, almost ruefully, as Lisbon slowly took her gun out of its holster and unclipped her badge and silently laid it on the table. Without a word, she left the room.

As Lisbon walked through the empty halls of the building the moonlight was the only source of light. The only other person, she knew, that was in the building, was Patrick Jane, feigning sleep on the couch in the bullpen. A dark anger welled up inside of her and the first tears started to pour down her cheeks. She quickly wiped off her face, and walked briskly through the bullpen to her office, determined not to be caught crying. If she was leaving, she was leaving with her dignity (and fierce reputation) in tact. She scribbled a quick note to the team, grabbed her things and was out before Jane could look up and notice the tearstains on her cheek, the slump of her shoulders or the lack of her badge and gun.

And with that, Agent Teresa Lisbon was gone.

Grace van Pelt was the first to get in the following morning. When she arrived she saw what seemed like a normal scene - Jane was asleep on the couch and very few other agents seem to have arrived. But something was missing...

Later, Cho and Rigsby also came in. Cho was the first to notice.

"Where's boss?"

"She's not in her office?" Van Pelt asked. "Weird, she's usually already in and working on paperwork when I get here..."

"Maybe she's just running late?" Rigsby offered.

"Yeah, maybe..." Van Pelt nodded, but felt that wasn't it. Lisbon wasn't the type of person that 'ran late' on a regular basis. In fact, she wasn't the type of person that 'ran late' _ever._

The mystery was solved when Hightower knocked called them all into her office, not much later.

"I'm sure you've noticed that Lisbon hasn't come in today."

"We have, is she sick or something?"

"No. Agent Lisbon has been relieved of her duty. A replacement is being brought in soon. In the meantime Agent Cho will be in charge. That will be all." Hightower walked out of the bullpen.

You could've knocked the entire team over with a feather. "She's been... fired?"

"Yes." Hightower said without looking back. And with that she got into the elevator and left.

Jane missed this transaction as he was in the kitchenette making himself some tea. When he returned, steaming cup in hand, he frowned at the change of demeanour of the tea.

"Why all the gloomy faces?" he asked in his usual cheerful manner.

"Lisbon got FIRED!" Rigsby practically exploded. He and Cho moved around Jane in an aggressive manner, the way they would if they were intimidating a suspect.

Jane practically spluttered his tea. "FIRED? Like... really? Because of me?"

"Yes, because of you! Why else? Hightower just informed us." Cho's town was almost disgusted, unusually expressive for him.

"Guys..." Van Pelt came out from Lisbon's office, where she seemed to have found some note. "She left us a note..."

"_Van Pelt, Rigsby, Cho and Jane:_

_When you're reading this I expect you've already heard I got fired. I'm probably not coming in again, so I won't see you to say this in person:_

_It's really been a great pleasure working with each one of you. You are all going to become very fine agents and I wish you all the best. _

_Also, don't kill Jane for getting me fired. And if you do, make sure it can't be traced back to you. Murder doesn't look all that good on a CV._

_Teresa Lisbon"_

Van Pelt was starting to get emotional and Jane was receiving death glares from Cho and Rigsby. This was bad, he decided. Very bad. Not only was he in a possibly life-threatening situation, but Lisbon was _fired_. He would never see her again. And that was very, very bad. Since he came to the CBI she has saved his sorry behind so many times, and he repays her like this? And, he couldn't help selfishly feeling, what would his day be like without her smile? Without her annoyed expressions? Without the feeling of bliss he got from getting her all fired up? Would it go back to the way he felt before he knew her (he wouldn't admit to himself _love_ her)? Would he go back to the dark, sad depression he was in? She was his sunshine. What would he do without her there every day?

Jane decided he had to talk to Hightower. Maybe he could convince her it wasn't Lisbon's fault. He tore himself away from the death glares and towards Hightower's office. He walked in purposely.

"You _fired_ Lisbon?"

"Why hello, Patrick. I'm fine and yourself?"

"You _fired_ her?"

"Yes. I've warned you two many times before, and the last case was simply the last straw. You pissed off the mayor, Jane, that's not just some excitably civilian! Lisbon can't control you. We needed someone different. So yes, I fired her. End of story."

"She wasn't even there, she didn't have any idea I was doing what I was doing! She was in the office, doing paperwork, she had no idea!"

"And that's the point! Now there's no use arguing over it now. She's gone and a replacement is on its way. Get out of my office."

The team had since moved on from death glares to simultaneous death glares and silent treatment. And with silent treatment, he means ignoring his existence completely. So Jane decided if there was no chance that Hightower would reconsider, the least he could do was go to Lisbon's apartment and apologize.

Jane parked his car in the parking lot outside her building and made his way to her apartment door. Before he knocked, he pressed his ear to the door, trying to figure out how she was handling it.

_Good, no heavy sobbing, no throwing things... silence... _

He knocked. No reaction. Again, he knocked. Complete silence. Getting frustrated, he kept knocking. He looked underneath the mat, above the door, inside the plant for a spare key, but none. So he dug in his pockets until he found a paper clip and started picking the lock. Soon, the lock clicked open and he softly opened the door.

"Lisbon? Lisbon?" Jane shouted, running through her apartment, not finding her. Confused, he walked back to the living room and paced slowly, contemplating where she might have gone.

_Why does her apartment feel so different?_

Jane abruptly stopped and his eyes flew to the large bookshelf against the wall. It was considerably emptier than the last time he was here, when he hypnotised her to prove she wasn't a murdered. A few of her books were gone, leaving the rest of them laying over each other in the empty space. Her Spice Girls CD was also gone. And the picture of her brothers. That's when it hit him.

Jane raced up the stairs to where he figured out her bedroom was last time he was there. The closets' doors were open and he could see they were cleaned out. Only her lone bed stood in the room. Suddenly an unexpected surge of emotion overcame Jane. Without thinking about it, he went and lay down on the bed. He could smell her on it - a faint aroma of cinnamon like he discovered when he was blind. Imbedded in the pillows and the duvet.

Overwhelmed and strangely uncertain, Jane lay there.

_I lost her._

**Wow. That's new for me – **_**Lisbon**_** leaving… **

**Reviews are like puppies. You can't help it – they just bring joy. So give me a review. And one day, you'll get a puppy! Results may vary.**

**Much love, Zanny**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

**Disclaimer: I totally own Mentalist. Psych! No such luck. I'm just a sad, obsessed fan, sitting on my green couch, borrowing characters and using them in my own twisted plotlines! Muhahahahahahaha!**

The bullpen was empty when Grace Van Pelt sat down at her desk. She turned on her computer and opened last night's unfinished paperwork, when the realization hit her. _The bullpen is empty. _She was used to being here early, coming in to a fairly empty CBI building. But normally, Jane would already be here, fake-sleeping on his couch, and she would be able to hear the buzz of Lisbon's computer in her office. On some days, Jane would even start torturing Lisbon this early, pestering the poor woman as she drank her first cup of coffee.

_But boss won't be here today. _She reminded herself. But that doesn't explain the emptiness of the couch.

She shrugged it off, thinking he was just coming in late because he didn't want to deal with the team being cold towards him.

_Not like he doesn't deserve it! _Van Pelt was very angry at Jane for what he has done. Normally she was exceptionally accepting when it came to his behaviour in the workplace, because she enjoyed that he made her job more interesting. But she couldn't take that he got Lisbon fired. Lisbon who saved his ass more times than he could keep count of, who let him do pretty much anything he wanted, as long as it got the case solved and brought justice to those guilty. Lisbon, who made Van Pelt feel that much more confident in her workplace. Who seemed to represent everything she wanted to become in her work – successful, respected and maybe just a little bit feared. And Jane got her fired. So he deserved everything the team threw at him.

But when Cho arrived, and then Rigsby arrived, and the building became full of activity, she started to worry.

Finally, she voiced her concern. "Where's Jane?"

Silence answered her.

"Guys, seriously, where is he?"

"Why should we care? He got boss fired." Cho didn't look up from his book.

"I know. But can you just give him a call? He's way late and what if he went and did something stupid?"

Rigsby took out his phone and, wordlessly, started to dial Jane's number. After a few rings, he got voicemail.

He shook his head and hung up. "Voicemail. Don't worry about it; he's probably just out stirring up some trouble. He'll come in later."

The phone rang and Cho answered. After the few customary "yeah's" and "uh-huh's", he hung up and simply stated "Case." With that, Jane was forgotten and the team was off into Sacramento to solve a murder.

_Where could she have gone?_ Jane had spent the night at Lisbon's empty apartment, hoping she may turn up sometime in the middle of the night. She didn't.

Jane was starting to get worried, the feeling unwelcome next to all the guilt building up inside of him. It was killing him.

She was probably feeling angry, hurt, and uncertain of the future. Mad at him, no doubt. Ready to shoot him in the face, probably. That's why she left, he deduced. She wanted to leave with her dignity intact, without making the scene she knew she would if she saw him again.

But he had to see her again. He couldn't let her leave without her knowing how sorry he was. He couldn't have her leave without knowing how he felt about her. In fact, he wasn't sure if he could let her leave, period. Now that he knew how he felt about her, living without her seemed impossible.

So he needed to find her. He needed to find her and tell her all these things; these complicated, flurried emotions and hope and pray she'd listen, forgive him and not shoot him in the face.

But first things first: finding her. And he knew exactly where to find a starting point.

"Finally, where were you?" Van Pelt exclaimed from behind her computer. It was a while after lunch time when Jane finally appeared.

"I was busy." He wasn't even staying to explain, jetting to Lisbon's office and throwing open the door.

He stopped dead in his tracks.

There was a woman at Lisbon's desk. A tall woman with long blonde hair and tanned skin, sitting in Lisbon's chair, arranging an array of knick-knacks. She looked up at him, expectantly, with her eyebrows raised.

With a confused expression, Jane turned on his heels and walked back to Van Pelt's desk.

"Van Pelt… Why is there a blonde woman at Lisbon's desk?"

Van Pelt sighed heavily. "That's Agent Whitman. Lisbon's replacement."

"Already? How do they replace her _already?_"

"I don't know Jane." She shook her head wearily. The whole situation was just getting too much for her. By now her initial anger has past and she has moved on to being sad and tired.

Jane nodded dumbly and entered Lisbon's (Agent Whitman's) office.

"Hi." He said, his hands in his pockets. He was having more trouble than usual keeping up his charming, cheerful faqade. At this stage he wasn't feeling very charming or cheerful. He just wanted that damned desk diary!

He remembered what she said to Cho over the phone when they were stuck Biohazard facility.

"…_I need you to my brother, Tommy… His number is in my desk diary, it's under 'Town and Country Electrical'."_

He knew how much her brothers meant to her and they were the only family she had left. She'd go to one of them, so Tommy was a good place to start.

"Hello. I take it you're Patrick Jane."

He smiled uncomfortably. "Guilty. It's real nice to have you. Now, if you don't mind, did you happen to see a desk diary somewhere around here?"

"A desk diary?"

"Yes, a desk diary. More specifically, our previous team leader, Agent Lisbon's desk diary."

"Oh, you mean this old thing?" She held up Lisbon's black leather desk diary, waving it in the air in front of him.

"Yes!" His face lit up and he went to take it from her. As his hand stretched out, she pulled it back, just out of his reach.

"Agent Jane, is it?"

"No, not Agent, I'm only a consultant. Uhm, can I have that?" He lunged forward to grab it again, but once more she dodged his grasp, keeping it just out of reach,

"Right. See, I've worked really hard for this job. Being a senior agent, having my own team? It's a big deal to me. Now, Agent Hightower mentioned something about the team being very upset about Agent Lisbon's departure. She also mentioned you being likely to…"

Another lunge, another doge.

"…stir up trouble. So I want to make something very clear: I'm not going to let anyone, not even you… ruin this for me."

"Really, Agent Whitman, I just want the diary. Nothing you need to be threatened about. Really…" He tried his best to keep his face as innocent as possible.

Luckily, this Agent Whitman seemed to buy it. "Very well. Here you go." She handed him the diary. "Off you go."

Clutching Lisbon's diary tightly under his arm, Jane made his way out of the office, shutting the door behind him. He went to sit down on his couch in the bullpen, where Rigsby and Cho have appeared as well, sitting at their respective desks. He sighed heavily, the gravity of the situation hitting him hard.

"I hate her." He mumbled.

"Me too."

"Me three."

"Me four." Sounded through the room.

**REVIEWS = HAPPINESS. Do your part in spreading happiness in the world by reviewing my story! PLEASE! I have an urgent happiness-shortage! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, pinky promise.**

He doesn't quite remember what happened after he got up from the couch. All he knows is that now he's speeding down the interstate in his blue Citroen with her diary splayed open on the passenger seat.

Looking down at it, he wasn't surprised how organized her diary was. So easy to find, as if she knew that he'd be looking for it now.

It was scribbled down in her handwriting:

_Town and City Electrical – 424 227 0032_

A quick search on Van Pelt's computer produced an address, hastily scribbled on a post-it.

It was a six hour drive from Sacramento to Los Angeles. Six hours that left him alone with his thoughts.

At first, he was imagining what he would say if, by some miracle, he found her. How he would apologize… Words could not describe the regret he felt…

But soon, his thoughts shifted to the night she left. He was dozing on the couch, not noticing as she made her way to her office, coming back from Hightower's office. He figured out a while ago that _that_ must've been when she was fired. He didn't even notice at the time how she hastened into her office. How she practically ran off to elevator, without even as much as a 'goodnight' in his direction. How her footsteps were heavy, her breath hitching.

And she didn't come back. She left without as much as a goodbye. She left without even talking to him. He'd much rather have it that she stayed and exploded at him, hated them, than leave without a word.

Tears sprang to his eyes again and clouded the view of the road stretching out into the horizon.

The last thing he remembers hearing is the screeching sound of a car horn, before it all went black…

He woke up in a place where the air smelled thin and clinical. There was an incessant beeping noise, vibrating through his ear drums and drilling into his head, making him notice a terrible ache in his head. But none of this made him open his eyes.

What made him open his eyes was her voice.

"Jane, wake up."

It _was_ her voice. But it had a sharp edge to it that he had never heard her use before; not even when she was furious at him. Never like this…

When he opened his eyes and his blurry vision recovered, he saw that it indeed was her.

But like he's never seen her before.

Her hair up in a messy ponytail and her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. It made his heart break all over again.

"…Teresa."

"What do you want?" Another sharp question.

"How… how did you..?"

"My brother's phone number and address was on your passenger seat. They called him, he called me. I'm not even going to ask how you got his details…" She rolled her eyes.

"I… I was looking for you… Teresa, I'm so sorry…" He couldn't think of anything to say. All those words he thought of in the car seemed wrong. Especially when he saw the hurt in her eyes.

"You made me lose my job, Jane. A sorry isn't going to fix it! My job… my job is my life. I have nothing else! I have _no one_ else! And you made me lose it! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a job these days? Of course not, you're the Golden Boy! Well, I'm telling you, it's pretty _damn _hard, especially when you got _fired _from your last job for inability to follow orders! Meanwhile, the order is getting you to behave yourself, which, apparently, is _impossible!_ So a sorry isn't going to fix this!"

She huffed, her eyes full of tears once again. Also in her eyes, was her fire. The fire he had missed. The fire she had left without blazing at him.

The fire that made him reach out and grab her head and pull her into a passionate kiss.

Stunned at the out-of-nowhere intimacy, Lisbon didn't respond at first. But soon she melted into his soft lips and responded with equal fervor.

When they finally broke, out of breath, she was the first who spoke.

"What the hell was that about?"

"I miss you." He pulled her into another kiss and she didn't resist.

"Damn. How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make me not hate you so quick."

**HI! So I hope that was okay… I wanted to cut the chapter short at the accident, leave a whole climax thing, but I thought that would be a little short. So I practically closed the story right there… But there will be another chapter, dealing with Miss Evil who's currently in Lisbon's seat. **

'**Ooooohhh… Zanny, whatever are you going to do to punish the little devil for taking Lisbon's job?'**

'**Well, I don't know afternote-voice, I don't know yet. Maybe, if all the fanfic-readers out there gave their opinions in reviews, I could get an idea!'**

'**That's great idea, Zanny! I'm going to review **_**right now**_**!'**

'**You can't afternote-voice. For you are simply a figment of my imagination.'**

**Please review, or I'll be forced to have another creepy conversation with my afternote-alter-ego! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Red Road: Chapter 4:**

**Disclaimer: *insert comment on how I don't own Mentalist and if I did Jisbon would have seven million little TV-babies right now***

Agent Andrea Whitman wasn't the type of woman who let things happen to her.

When she was seven, a large boy a few grades above her pulled her pigtails. The next day he was in the hospital with a broken arm, after his bicycle fell apart while he was riding it in the street.

When she was sixteen, her boyfriend left her for her best friend. The friend woke up the following day with her lovely blonde locks shaved off (somehow in her sleep) and the boyfriend lost his lucky green socks, making him lose the big playoff game where the scouts were to allow him a basketball scholarship.

Even now, so many years later, Agent Andrea Whitman didn't allow things to happen to her.

She knew the team wasn't crazy about her. It wasn't hard to figure out – given how well-liked their previous boss was and the cold demeanor she was greeted to at her arrival, it wasn't exactly rocket science.

She also knew that Patrick Jane was completely and totally in love with the woman he got fired. She's seen the newspaper reports on the consultant creating drama and controversy with suspects, witnesses and really anyone who came within a few feet of him. She'd also seen Agent Teresa Lisbon's name in the papers, saving his sorry ass with apologies and compensations. She also stole a sneak peek at some of their files – murder accusations, thinking they were going to die in a biohazard facility… among others. Those two have been to hell and back together. It would be unnatural for him to go through so much with such a beautiful and charming woman and not fall for her.

When he came into her office yesterday it sealed her suspicions. And now he wasn't showing up for work. The whole situation smelled fishy.

But going to her boss now wasn't going to look good.

_Losing_ the consultant she was hired to control after only one day? And then coming with suspicious ramblings about how he was out to get her fired? No, she had to wait until she had something credible to pin on him. Something to hold against him to force him to behave.

"What are we going to do?" They were lying in his hospital bed, her next to him and in his arms, trailing patterns on his chest.

"Do about what?"

"Not what. Who… Agent _Whitman_." The name was like a bad taste on his tongue.

"Who's that?"

"It's the agent they got to replace you. But nobody likes her. There was a unanimous vote that we all hate her."

"They replaced me already?" Her face was hurt. He pulled her closer to him, kissing her head.

"They could never replace you. They just put a blonde witch in your seat. Who has knick-knacks. You know those little porcelain knick-knacks? What kind of a police officer has them?"

She giggled at his irrational hatred for her replacement.

"Well I don't think it matters anyway. Even if you somehow get her fired, Hightower won't hire me back."

"...What if we don't get her fired? What if we get her to quit? What if we get every replacement they have to quit until they're _forced_ to bring you back."

"But you don't listen to me either."

He furrows his brow. "I listen to you."

"No you don't! If you did you wouldn't misbehave so much!"

He smiled mischievously. "You think I was misbehaving with _you_? That was me being me. Misbehaving? I won't give her a week!"

"You're not going to do anything illegal are you?"

"Meh. I'm the golden boy."

This time she sat up, raising her finger in a commanding way. "Nothing illegal! Or, like, morally questionable!"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, mother."

He pulled her into another passionate kiss, running his finger through her silky hair.

Pulling away, she raised her eyebrow. "You kiss your mother like _that_?"

Laughing, he rolled her over, kissing her again, loving the feeling of just having her close.

**Okay, so I didn't get any bright ideas to get rid of Ms Evil (my nickname for Whitman) so I'm gonna go for the obvious choice – smoking her out. PLEASE REVIEW! I'm in desperate need for some creative ways for Jane to drive her crazy! Deviousness is highly appreciated. **

**Desperate love**

**Zanny**


	5. Chapter 5

**Red Road: Chapter 5**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Thanks to all reviewers, especially Jisbon4ever for the iguana idea! HI-LARIOUS! **

**Haha, I'm feeling like SUCH an idiot! I confused Red Road with Colourful Dreams, my other fic, and went and plotted the colour pink in everywhere and inserted a dream… luckily I realized my mistake before I posted anything! **

Two days later, Patrick Jane walked into the CBI building, a cast on his arm.

"Jane! Where have you… OH MY GOSH, what happened?" Van Pelt jetted off her chair to his side, fretting over his injury.

"Oh, don't worry about it. I was just taking a drive when I had a little accident. Sorry, I would've called earlier, but things got a little complicated."

"Sit down, you're injured!" Van Pelt didn't seem to hear him, ushering him to the couch.

Hearing the commotion, Agent Whitman rushed out her office.

"JANE! Where have you been?"

"He's been in a car accident." Van Pelt explained for him, forcing him to lie down and rest as she spoke.

"You haven't been here for two days! You could've called and let the office know."

"Well, Agent Whitman, I don't have your number." His tone was almost accusing, as if all this was her fault.

Her face became flushed with anger, but containing herself to not create a bad imagine this soon in her new job, she pulled herself together and started back to her office.

"Don't let it happen again."

Jane smiled, pleased with annoying her. "Van Pelt, wake me up in an hour, okay?"

"Uhm… okay. Why?"

"No particular reason."

Lying more comfortably on his couch, he closes his eyes, escaping to his dream world for the time being.

"Jane, wake up! It's been an hour."

He opens his eyes reluctantly.

Moving off the couch, he walks out of the bullpen.

"Medication." He mumbles to Van Pelt, who seems to take the word as an adequate explanation and continues with her work.

Jane moves to Whitman's office, peering inside through the window in her door.

She's out… Perfect. He gently opens the door, moving to the hook by the door where her bright pink handbag hung. This was one of the first things that bothered Jane about her. A pink handbag? What was she? Law Enforcement Barbie? Awkwardly moving his arm past his cast, he takes something out of his jacket pocket and slips it into her bag.

"We've got a case, people!" Whitman announces as she moves into the bullpen from the general direction of Hightower's office. She quickly slips into her office, grabbing her hot pink bag from the hook before following the team out to the SUV's.

Arguing on the way down to the garage and a game of Rock-Paper-Scissors, decided that Cho would drive the one SUV, with Jane in the passenger seat and Rigsby and Van Pelt at the back. Whitman wanted to drive alone.

They were moving to the SUV's when they heard a blood-curdling scream from Whitman.

Her comical pink bag now lay on the ground of the garage, a few feet away from her where she threw it. Slowly a distinctly green iguana poked its ugly head out, taking a look around.

"YOU!" She pointed an accusing finger at Jane, whose expression was innocence itself.

"Me? What did I do?"

"You put this… _thing_ in my bag!"

"What?" Now his expression was hurt. Dramatically hurt.

"Yes!"

"Well, do you have any _proof_ of this supposed crime, Agent Whitman? Wait, I'm partly incapacitated." He lifted his cast as proof. "I couldn't possibly come by such a large reptile and put it in your lovely fuchsia purse with this old thing weighing me down, could I?"

Her face was bright red, but somehow she contained her anger.

_Wow, she's a hard one to break. Lisbon would've at least thrown a stapler by now. But, then again, I'd never put a lizard in Lisbon's purse._

She stomped towards him until she was right up in his face. "Do… NOT… mess with me, Patrick Jane."

With that she spun around and moved to her SUV, leaving her purse right there on the floor.

The team was gaping at Jane.

"What?"

"Did you just put a lizard in her purse?"

He just smiled in his usual confirming way and got in the SUV. As they drove past her purse, Jane shouted: "STOP!"

Getting out of the car he quickly moved to pick up the disorientated reptile with his good hand and climbed back in.

"What? It's cute! Aren't you, Buford?"

**HI! Thanks to all the reviewers, I'm thinking of creating a shrine in your honor. You know what would totally convince me? Reviewing again!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Red Road: Chapter 6:**

**Disclaimer: Do we really need to go over this again? No, I don't own the Mentalist. **_**Get the picture?**_

"Where did you even _get_ an iguana?"

"Corner pet store."

"You put it in her purse?"

"Yes. Did you know she has a pink purse? Like bright pink. It's horrible, she's a witch."

Lisbon giggled, taking another strawberry off her plate. They were lying on her bed, wrapped up in the sheets and each other, eating strawberry pancakes in bed.

Her expression turned serious.

"What if, for once, your schemes don't work? Maybe we should just accept this is how it should be. I've been getting calls from the SFPD and…"

"No. I'm not accepting it. I'm not going to have you an hour away every time I need to see you. She's gonna crack. We're gonna get you your job back."

He kissed her, pulling her into an embrace.

"You taste like strawberries." She giggles at his random observation.

"You have to face to possibility of me having to move."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah. Yeah, you do."

"No. No, I don't." He kisses her again playfully. "Stop arguing, woman!"

He started to get up, leaving her moaning in protest.

"I'm sorry, my love, I have to go take care of phase two."

"Phase two?" She sat up, pulling the sheet up with her.

"Yup. Phase two…" He awkwardly pulled on his dress shirt.

"What exactly _is_ phase two?" she asks, moving closer to him, helping him with the buttons.

He gave her one of his mischievous smiles. "That, my dear, would be ruining the surprise."

He grabbed his vest and jacket and leaned in to give her a quick kiss goodbye.

"I'll call you for lunch, okay!" He called behind him as he ran out the door.

"So the wife's alibi checks out?" Whitman flipped through the case file.

"Uh-huh." Van Pelt was typing away on her computer, only looking up when Jane appeared in the bullpen, cup of tea in his good hand and a huge smile on his face.

"Hey Jane."

"Morning all!" He announced cheerfully, sitting down on his couch.

"You're late… again." Cho observed.

"Well, getting ready in the morning takes longer than you'd expect with a cast."

"And you're cheerful." Rigsby piped in.

"I'm always cheerful!"

"Not lately." Rigsby was referring to Whitman. Jane gave him a look that seemed to say: _Wow, subtle._

"Okay, team, enough chit-chat! Get back to work!" Snapping the file closed, Whitman disappeared around the corner, presumably to go get coffee.

As she left Van Pelt made a face.

"Grace! I wouldn't have expected that from you!" He raised his eyebrows in fake-surprise.

"What? All of a sudden you _like_ her?"

Jane scoffed. "Now that would be going too far."

Out of nowhere there came a yell from the kitchenette.

The team ran towards the sign of trouble to find Whitman there, her white blouse stained with dark coffee, waving off a thick cloud of smoke coming from the coffee machine.

"What happened?"

"The thing just… EXPLODED!" She coughed loudly and gave another screech as a bout of sparks jumped out of the machine.

Rigsby moved to the machine to check the damage. Coughing he emerged from the smoke.

"The thing's fried."

A chorus of groans came from the back. Apparently the crowd has grown to the entire CBI building, not only their team.

Coffee was the CBI's source of power. Anyone who's worked there knew that. Lisbon, who was horribly addicted to caffeine, was not even the worst of the lot. Taking away the coffee machine was pretty much the equivalent of stabbing the agents' in their hearts. Not cool.

As if on cue, the building's smoke detectors went off, causing streaming water to rain down on the agents.

"Oh no…" Jane frowned, as the team (and Whitman) streamed into the bullpen, trying to get as far away from the sprinklers as possible.

"Don't worry, Agent Whitman, I'm sure no one will blame you for taking away their coffee… and then soaked them…"

Whitman gave him an angry stare, while trying to get her hair dry.

Her eyes darted to his still steaming cup of tea, but she didn't say anything.

She darted out the room towards her office.

Van Pelt looked at him suspiciously. "You did that?"

Jane looked appaled. "Now, Grace… You know I don't drink coffee. Why would I touch the machine?"

Giving a knowing smile, she just continued with her work.

**Huh? HUH? Come one, tell me! Review! **

**All my love and adoration,**

**Zanny**


	7. Chapter 7

**Red Road: Chapter 7**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

"Okay… See you in a minute… Baby, she'll never notice. Love you. Bye…" Jane hung up, putting his cell phone in his pocket.

"Who was that?" Van Pelt popped up behind him.

He jumped a little, surprised.

"Uhm… no one…" He shifted uncomfortably.

"Jane, are you in a relationship?" Her eyes sparkled.

"No. What would make you think that?"

"Well, you were just on the phone with someone you called 'baby' and said you 'loved'. It's the natural conclusion to make."

"So… you were eavesdropping on my phone call?"

Grace's face turned red as her hair. "No… no, I…"

"Well then, I'm going out to lunch. See you all later."

He sped out of the bullpen.

_She heard… Damn. What if she figures it out? Teresa will kill me… _

He tried to take it off his mind as he made his way to the café not too far from the CBI building where he arranged to meet Teresa for lunch.

Little did he know that Grace was getting a little too curious for her own good.

"Did you hear what Jane said over the phone?" She whispered over to Cho.

"What, when you were eavesdropping?"

"I wasn't… Okay, I was. But still, did you hear what he said? He called whoever he was talking to 'baby' and then he said he 'loved' her! He's obvious in a relationship!"

"Relationship? Please, Agent Van Pelt, this is a workplace. It is not a place for chit-chat about your private lives!" Whitman scowled as she walked past the bullpen.

Rolling her eyes, Van Pelt grabbed her purse.

"And where are you going?" Cho asked, not even looking up.

"Out for lunch."

When she was gone, Rigsby shot a look at Cho.

"She's going to follow Jane, huh?"

"Yup."

The café was in the middle of their lunch rush. As a local hot spot, it was the first place Van Pelt thought he would go if he met someone for lunch. Her hunch was proven correct when she spotted his light blue Citroen parked close by.

She scoped the tables on the outside but didn't see Jane anywhere. She would have to go inside.

But she wasn't disappointed.

When she saw it, her first instinct was disbelief. The next thought that came to her mind was of course!

Jane was sitting at a secluded table in the corner with her former boss. Holding hands.

"Teresa, I'm telling you this'll all work out! Forget about the job in San Francisco! I know you're bored out of your mind, my love, but just hold out a little while longer…"

"Patrick…" Her face was worried and vulnerable.

"I promise you'll be back where you belong – with us, on the team."

He stole one of the chips off her plate. "Hey! That's mine!"

He laughed at her pout.

"You're adorable, you know that."

She seemed to be offended by this, and punished his offence by stealing chips off his plate as well.

"Boss and Jane _together?_" Van Pelt mumbled incredulously, running off before they could see her.

**Okay, that was short, but at least there's some drama coming! OOOOOHHH…. Van Pelt **_**knows**_** . What now? No clue. Comments? REVIEW!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Red Road: Chapter 8**

**Thanks to all my fantastic reviewers. You make life worth living!**

**Disclaimer: Just borrowing.**

"I know…" Van Pelt whispered, smiling knowingly.

"You know what?"

"I know… where you were at lunch yesterday."

_Uh oh…_ "You mean that café a block over?"

"No… Well, yes, but I mean with who."

"Look, Grace, I don't know what you think you saw, but…"

"Can it, Jane, I know! And I'm not gonna tell on you or anything… I want to help."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Help?"

"Yeah. Well, I take that it _is_ you giving Whitman such a hard time."

"Guilty as charged…"

"Well… I agree she's horrible. So… if you need help… just so you know, I'm here."

Jane smiled, pleasantly surprised.

"Well, what do you know. Agent Grace Van Pelt is willing to bend the rules to help her boss."

"He confessed!" Rigsby announced, plopping down at his desk.

"Case closed!"

The announcement lit up the faces of the team, even Cho's. It was a glimmer of familiarity in their work environment which now felt so foreign.

Jane hopped off his couch, smiling brightly. He's been looking forward to this since Whitman took over.

Case closed pizza was a tradition that Lisbon started to treat her team. He took it for granted so many times, but now, when she was gone and he was missing seeing her all day at work, the little things that reminded him of her presence became gold.

"Let's go guys! Pizza's my treat!"

"Woah, woah, woah! Where's everyone going?" Whitman came into the bullpen, hands on her hips and eyebrows raised.

"Case closed pizza." Jane said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"It's a tradition." Rigsby offered.

"No, no, no. We just finished a case. There's paperwork and written statements to finish up! Get back to work!" With that she shot back out of the bullpen, back to her office.

There was a silence of disbelief.

"Did… did she just take away case closed pizza?" Rigsby stuttered.

Jane nodded sedatedly.

"But… it's pizza. Everybody likes pizza! And it's a tradition! She can't just take it away!"

"She did. And she's not going to get away with it…"

The CBI building wasn't a particularly pleasant place to be at the moment. In the first place, most of the people in it were extremely cranky. Some idiot in the Serious Crime Unit busted the coffee machine. Which meant that no one could get there precious energy source.

Secondly, the heat. A very badly-timed maintenance decision left the AC broken until _at least_ next week, right in time for what turned out to be a very unexpected heat wave.

The heat also seemed to affect the criminals of California. Cases were suddenly scarce and paperwork in abundance.

Especially for Agent Whitman.

"Jane! Where did all this paperwork come from? You s_tole _evidence? Broke into a suspect's home without a warrant?"

"Yeah… That happens with me. Rather often…"

"How often?"

"Well, I don't know. How often do we get cases?"

Whitman's face turned bright red. "Jane, I want you to listen to me now. I'm in charge now, and I will not tolerate your indiscretions like Agent Lisbon did. I'm not that _weak, _and trust me, if you disobey me, I will make your life a living hell…"

Jane shot up from his place on the couch, his face even redder and angrier than hers.

"First of all… you do _not_ call Teresa Lisbon weak. She's the strongest person I know and _twice _the woman you will ever be… And second… do you know how you got your job, Agent Whitman? Do you know why Lisbon got fired? Because she couldn't control my _indiscretions,_ if that's what you'd like to call them. And s_he_ got fired, because I close cases like a fiend, I'm the_ golden boy._ You do anything to me or my team? I quit. And that, Agent Whitman, would be the end of your career here at the CBI."

Whitman's face remained angry, but she didn't react. Instead she barged out, back to the safety of her office.

Jane had to notice that she kept returning to her office, never mingling with the team, never consulting with them.

Speaking of the team, their mouths were hanging open.

He kept pacing back and forth, still inflated with anger over the audacity of Whitman.

He walked off urgently to the kitchenette, not wanting to face their questioning expressions.

He made himself a cup of tea and sat down at the table, trying to calm himself.

He hasn't had an explosion like that in very long. It wasn't something he wanted to do – it was too easy to lose the charming façade he had to keep up when he was angry.

But she called her weak. And she took away cased closed pizza! And she had a pink handbag and curly blonde hair.

And, probably worst of all, she wasn't Lisbon.

**I'm gonna keep this simple. Review. Please.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Red Road 9: **

**Disclaimer: I really think everyone's got the message by now.**

When she opens her apartment door, he flings himself into her arms.

"Patrick, are you okay?"

"She took away case closed pizza today. And then she threatened me and called you weak. So I yelled at her. And I might have threatened her back. And I missed you so much… And… I love you."

She held him and let him calm down. It's been a hard day, she could tell. He wouldn't let himself cry or break down over this woman, but he was upset.

When his breathing finally stilled, he stayed there, wrapped in her embrace.

"…So… she took away case closed pizza? Seriously?"

"Really, woman? Out of everything, _that's_ what you got?"

She chuckled, trailing her fingers across his back.

"You'll be okay, Patrick. Even if things don't work out, even if you're stuck with this pizza-hating new boss… you'll be okay."

"Why do you keep saying that?"

"What?"

"Keep bringing up that she might stay. I've told you, it's not an option. I'm not gonna let her stay there abusing you job. I can't keep going back to a job like that without you there every day, Teresa. I need you."

"I just want you to face the possibility that your plan won't work. It's happened before. I just don't want you to be so set on its success. We'll survive whichever way it goes."

"But don't you get it? _You_ might survive on seeing me every blue moon. But _I_ won't survive without you there. What happened… it broke me. It broke me to pieces and the only thing that kept me going was revenge. But revenge can only keep you going so long before it breaks you. And then something amazing happened – I just kept on going. And it was because of you. Your face, your smile, the fire in your eyes, everything about you… that's what's been keeping me going for so long. And when you left, when you got fired… I realized that I wouldn't make it without you. So you see, I can't live with you away… I need you Teresa. In the absolute essence of the word…"

He was afraid his speech might freak her out. He wouldn't be able to blame her. It would scare many woman away, especially one as emotionally vulnerable as her. But when she looked up in his eyes, tears glistening in her emerald orbs, he knew she felt the same way. He knew she wouldn't leave him.

"And also, Grace knows."

"Grace knows?"

"She followed me to lunch yesterday. Saw us eating together."

"Well then, maybe…"

"She also heard me talking over the phone to you. Put two and two together…"

She sighed.

"On the bright side, now I've got help…"

Her head shot up. "Please don't tell me you've dragged Grace into this! You can't put her career at risk as well!"

"She offered. She wants you back as much as I do. Everyone does, in fact. Which kinda brings me to another point…"

She raises an eyebrow. "And what's that?"

"I think I know how we can make Whitman quit and not put anyone at major risk…"

**I know it's short, but I need more ideas for pranks – something BIG… and please don't be shy to mention anything, my best ideas come from reviewers… which reminds me… PLEASE REVIEW.**

**Zanny**


	10. Chapter 10

**Red Road: Chapter 10**

**Thanks to redneckdetectiv for the awesome review with all the great ideas!**

**Oh, and the Sacramento Herald doesn't exist… who knows, it might… But I just made up a name out of the top of my head.**

**Disclaimer: I own very little and redneckdetectiv can claim a lot of it.**

"This won't end well." Lisbon fretted, her head falling to the table.

"Oh, will you relax. They'll be here any minute."

They were sitting in a booth, her leaning into him with his arms around her waist, his hands moving over abdomen.

"Stop that."

"What? We're in a booth behind a table. Nobody can see us and the team isn't even here yet."

"Yeah well, how do you think they'll react when they arrive to your hands down their boss' pants?"

"Supportively?"

Lisbon rolled her eyes. "Hands to yourself for now, please."

"For now?" He wiggles his eyes suggestively.

"Shut up, here they come."

"BOSS!" Rigsby pretty much pulled her out of her seat and pulled her into a hug. "We haven't heard from you since…"

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry I'm disappeared without a word. Hi guys…" She waved sheepishly at the team, offering them seats at the table.

"Not that I don't enjoy the visit, but what's this about?" Classic Cho, straight to the point.

Jane interrupted at this point. "I think we can all agree Whitman sucks."

There was a chorus of "yes"-es, Rigsby especially responding with passion. "She took away case closed pizza! That's… that's…"

"Yeah, Rigsby, we're all upset." Van Pelt patted his shoulder, mostly to get him to shut up.

"Well, I've come up with a little idea to get Lisbon back… What did we do today?"

"We closed the case." Van Pelt said.

"Yeah, this morning. But what did we do for the rest of the day?"

"Paperwork… straight through lunch…" Rigsby grumbled.

"Okay, now listen up…"

"Where were all of you?" Hightower was sitting in the bullpen, which was without a sign of life. "You're all two hours late!"

"Madeleine! How are you? Well, Agent Whitman was nice enough to let us come in later today, because we worked so well yesterday."

"Oh really? Then why did Agent Whitman come to me complaining none of you showed up?"

Jane shrugged. "Maybe she forgot? You know, in my personal opinion, she has seemed like a bit of a scatterbrain."

"Patrick, don't take this the wrong way, but I'd much rather trust her than you…"

"Well, Madeleine, you don't have to trust me. I've got the entire team to vouch for me. Guys, did Whitman give us two hours off the morning?"

There were a chorus of agreements and nods. "Right before we left. Told us so herself. But she did seem a little… distracted."

Hightower looked at the team suspiciously, but seemed to buy it.

"Well, then… I'll have to speak to her then… Anyway, you've got a case. This one's high-profile so Jane, please don't do anything stupid. I'll have Agent Whitman keep an extra eye on you."

She left, leaving the team alone. Jane looked like a toddler who was just told he'll be getting a new puppy.

"Fantastic! A high-profile case!"

"Why are you so happy?"

Jane shook his head. "Not telling!"

"The victim is Angela Jones. She's a magazine mogul in Los Angeles, but stays here in Sacramento with her husband. She was found stabbed to death outside a local club."

"Well that's horribly unexciting. Young magazine mogul partying the night away, gets mugged… bo-ring."

"She's 75." This made Jane's eyebrows rise.

"Well… drug problem then. That makes things interesting!"

Whitman slaps his arm. "You will _not_ insult victims! Have some respect!"

"I'm not being disrespecting, I'm simply stating facts."

"It's not facts, it's a hunch!" This wasn't like the fun bantering he did with Lisbon, but in an accusing tone, as if she was insulting him more and more with every word.

"It's how I work! That's why I'm here!"

They arrived at the club, which was more of a dodgy pub by day, where they had to interview the man who found her body.

"Stay in the car!" Whitman ordered.

"What? Why should I stay here?"

"I don't want you to stir up trouble."

She left him alone in the SUV.

He waited for her to walk out of sight before he opened his door and walked out.

How did he manage to get himself into these situations? Okay, this one was on purpose. But still.

A large, burly man with no neck was pointing a gun at his head. In the middle of the pub. With Whitman gaping like a goldfish.

"Stay calm… We wouldn't want to do something we'll regret later…" She said_ we_. Crazy.

"Yeah, Bulldog, you wouldn't want to shoot a cop… Well, I'm not a cop. But you wouldn't want to shoot a CBI consultant. You'll go to jail. And the blonde lady has a gun." He nodded while he spoke.

"Bulldog, drop you weapon!" Whitman seemed to catch up to the situation and raised her gun.

With the violent look on her face, Bulldog slowly lowered his gun. As she handcuffed his hands behind his back he growled at Jane.

Walking out with Bulldog in tow, Whitman gave Jane a death-glare that could compete with Lisbon's.

_Only Lisbon's is beautiful and not… death-y._

"The husband, Peter, is in interview right now. He's a 25-year-old underwear model. Well, that's a stereotype turned upside down!" Van Pelt chuckled.

"Van Pelt, who's doing the interviewing?"

"Cho and Rigsby. Why?"

"No reason."

Jane walked over to the interview room. There he called out Cho and Rigsby and called them out.

"Give me 10 minutes alone with him."

"No way. Boss said to make sure you don't do any of your tricks."

"Yeah, I don't get why she said something like that… How else would we get anything done around this place?"

Rigsby sighed. "What are you gonna do?"

"Nothing dramatic! Just ten minutes… Five?"

Nodding, Rigsby and Cho let him through. "Only five minutes!" They called out after him.

Peter Jones was a hot blonde thing, the type that would absolutely sleep with a 75-year-old woman for a place on her will. Jane recognized his face – he wasn't a stranger to the spotlight, probably had a few big billboards up or something.

"Mister Jones!"

"Dude, call me Pete."

_He did not just call me dude. Oh boy._

"Fine, Pete. You like the ocean, Pete? I love the ocean. Real relaxing, the waves… Sloshing back and forth, back and forth…." His voice took that calming hypnotic tone, and in no time at all, Pete Jones was under hypnosis.

"So Pete… tell me about your wife."

"My wife?"

"Yeah, your wife. Angela. The one who just died? You cheated on her, yes?"

He chuckled, cockily. _Of course…_ "Cheat on her? Nah, man, we had an open relationship. I got to keep playing the field and she had most of the staff on the side…"

"The pool boy?"

"And the valet. And the butler. And the laundry boy. And the gardener."

Jane raised his eyebrows.

"Did you kill her? Maybe get worried someone on the staff was gonna work his way on the will?"

"I didn't kill her. But I'd bet money on the gardener."

"Duly noted. Thanks Pete." Jane discreetly tapped his fingers on the table, making Pete snap out of his trance.

"You can go now."

"Jane, why on earth did you let Peter Jones go? He was the lead suspect for the murder!"

"He didn't do it."

"How do you know that?"

"He told me so."

"Oh. He told you so? Well, that makes everything okay. Did you braid each other's hair as well? YOU DON'T LET SUSPECTS GO WITHOUT RUNNING IT BY ME! Period!"

"Fine! But he cheated on her. And she cheated on him with everything with a pulse and external genitalia. And they both knew about it and accepted it."

"Well there you go, motive! You shouldn't have let him go!"

"Get over it, he's not our guy!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW THAT!"

"JANE! HOW DID THIS COME OUT TO THE PRESS?" Whitman _yelled_, her voice raising a few octaves.

"What?"

"I quote: According to a CBI insider, Mister Peter Jones claimed that not only did _he_ cheat on his deceased wife numerous times, but she knew about it and had relationships with others as well. He was quoting saying that he would 'put money on the gardener' for the murder of his late wife. This is the exact same information you told us yesterday! How did this come out to the press?"

"Oh dear. I told her not to say anything."

"YOU TOLD I_ WHO_ WHAT?"

"I met up with an old friend yesterday. She's a reporter for the Sacramento Herald. She asked about the case. Damn, I should've known."

Hightower came running into the bullpen. "Patrick, this is most certainly not okay! You've been creating all kinds of trouble lately!"

Glancing around the room, he asked Hightower to her office to talk privately.

"Bring Lisbon back."

"What? Is this what this is about? You throwing a tantrum to get her back here?"

"Call it what you want. But I'm not going to stop making trouble until Whitman is gone and the team is back together again. And if you don't want to listen… I'll quit."

Hightower chuckled humorlessly. "Why do you want Teresa back so badly. Is there something I should know about?"

"Madeleine, I would not go there if I were you. Lisbon and I have been through a lot more than your average co-workers. The team misses her. And I'm not going to keep solving cases for you without her."

At this, Hightower kept silent.

"Think about it."

**I LOVE REVIEWS. And I HATE Whitman. Please don't think the drama is ending, there is a lot more to come! **

**Zanny**


	11. Chapter 11

Thanks for the reviews all!

**Disclaimer: You'd know is Mentalist was mine. Simon Baker wouldn't have** **a shirt on. Ever.**

Teresa finished her fifth crossword in the last three days. Sighing, she fell back on the couch, letting out a huff.

She has never been so bored in her life.

Honestly, she was hoping Jane would just let her go to San Francisco just so that she could go and work. Having nothing to do was killing her.

She heard Jane put the key in the lock and jumped up to greet him at the door.

"Patrick, you're back."

"Yeah, I…" He was interrupted by her lips on his.

When they broke they were both breathless. "Somebody's restless."

"Ugh, I can't help it. I've had nothing to do all day! I'm so bored."

"Well, you wouldn't have to be bored for too long now, my love, I talked to Hightower today. She's sleeping on it."

"Whitman gave in?"

"No, but she's about to. I can see it in her eyes. She wants to get me back, but nothing she's capable off can hurt me. I'll bet that she'll go and talk to Hightower tonight and complain about me. That's why I told Hightower, it'll make her go all two-birds-with-one-stone and bring you back!"

Embracing her he lifted her legs off the ground (which wasn't that hard to do) and spun her around. "Everything's going to be exactly the way it was."

Lisbon smiled up at him, delighted that things are finally working out. "Well… not exactly the same…" She softly kissed his lips.

"Thank you, Patrick. Even though it is kind of your fault I was fired in the first place…"

"Sorry about that."

"I know how you can make it up to me…" She smiled mischievously, a glint in her eye telling him exactly what he needs to know.

"Well then…" He pulls her up into another passionate kiss and picks her up in his arms to carry her upstairs.

Unbeknownst to them, a blonde figure was crouching behind the window. The image in front of her captured on a camera.

Patrick Jane woke up to a sound that he immediately knew he never wanted to hear again.

"Teresa?" When he opened his eyes they immediately went to her. She was sitting up, her knees drawn up to her chest, eyes red rimmed with salt trails over her cheeks.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" He was up immediately sat up, pulling her into his arms and whispering to her comfortingly.

"Higtower just called me…" Only then does he notice the phone lying in her lap.

"Whitman sent her pictures…"

"What pictures?"

"Pictures of us… Pictures she took of us."

Realization hit him. Whitman was craftier than he thought originally. In order to punish him for trying to get Lisbon's job back, she attacked Lisbon.

Pulling her closer and rubbing her back. "Shhh, shhh… It's okay…" When she grew silent he looked her in the eyes.

"Teresa, maybe we should come clean about our relationship… Van Pelt reacted well enough. I'm pretty sure Rigsby and Cho figured it out when we all had lunch together. Nobody on the team will think any worse of you… Who else are you worried about?"

She buried her head in his chest, taking comfort in his presence.

"Yeah… I guess you're right. I hate it when you do that." He smiled. That was his Teresa. Still able to banter with him, even with tearstains on her cheeks.

"What did Hightower say about the job?"

Lisbon sighed. "For once your plan didn't work. She says she's not going to give into that kind of manipulation. Especially under the circumstances…"

"Great! Just great!"

"Patrick, I'm dying. I can't go on like this staying at home all day. I'm going insane! The Senior Agent in San Francisco called again this afternoon. I'm taking the job. At least for freelance."

"What? NO! You can't leave!"

"Just think of it as for the time being. You can keep doing whatever you want, but I need to keep working. We'll see each other every night and morning. The only thing that's going to change… for now... is the lunches. You won't miss me too much."

"I wouldn't count on that…" He grumbles.

"Patrick, it's going to be fine."

"I'm still going to get your job back. Once you're re-instated, you'll come back."

"I promise. See? It's all going to be fine."

She kissed his forehead.

"I'm sorry I got you into this."

"It's okay, baby. Not go back to sleep."

He held her close, snuggling into her hair. He loved her scent, it was one of his favorite things about her. He couldn't imagine losing her. Sure, it was only freelance for now and all he'd really be losing was lunches together. He understood she couldn't sit here all day and do nothing – it wasn't in her nature.

But he was afraid. What if she decided to stay in San Francisco after all is said and done? Driving an hour every day would be too much – she'd move. New people, new places… a new love?

He knew he was being paranoid, but he had just found her. Any threat of losing her was driving him insane.

He felt her relax completely in his arms and her breathing steady. She was sleeping.

He knew sleep wouldn't come tonight, especially after the drama of Hightower's call.

So he lay there, reveling in her closeness.

"I love you…" He whispers into the silence.

**Please review… they make me so happy, it's like, insane! So please… pretty please?**


	12. Chapter 12

**Red Road: Chapter 12**

**Thanks to all reading! It makes me so happy to know people are reading (and, here's me being really optimistic) and liking my work! You all rock! **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

The next day at work is gloomy.

Mostly because of the fact that Jane couldn't start the day off right.

She had to leave early this morning. An hour extra drive is no joke.

So he didn't get his morning kiss. Or his morning fooling around.

All he got was a note on the pillow telling him good luck for the day.

Adding to the gloominess of the day was the death glare Whitman keeps giving him whenever they're in the same room. And even through the blinds of the glass walls when he lies on the couch. It's depressing.

He hasn't seen Hightower yet, but he bets she'll call him in for a scolding before the day is over.

The team seems to pick up something's wrong (not that it's that much of a mystery. Whitman's still here to deal out death glares, his face is one of doom and gloom and, well, they _are_ detectives after all!) They don't voice their concerns, though. They can probably deduct that it blew up in his face.

When lunch time comes, he almost jumps off his couch to head to the café. But he is cruelly reminded that Lisbon is in San Francisco. No lunch dates anymore. So he opts to sneak around the corner and call her.

She answers after two rings. "Hey Jane."

"How's it going over there?"

"Great. The team I'm working with is really professional and pleasant. We've got a case now, so I can't talk long."

"It's okay. I just wanna hear how it's going… I miss you."

He can almost hear her smile. "Patrick, it hasn't been six hours!"

"That's how much I miss you!"

"…I miss you too. But I have to go now; we're headed to the suspects place."

"Okay, have fun. Love you!"

"You too, bye."

Jane sighs when she hangs up. That wasn't sufficient Lisbon-exposure to keep him going for an entire day.

This was just getting ridiculous! He used to be able to let his wife leave him for long periods of time! In his past he was very laid-back when it came to situations like this.

But she was so… different. He needed her to breath.

Whitman emerges from her office, yelling something about a new case into the bullpen. He moves to meet them there, listening to Whitman brief the case.

"Jane, you're staying here!" She commanded sharply, turning away and made pace to the garage before he could react.

He jogged behind her. "What? Why can't I come along?"

"You really want me to explain this to you?" Her gaze could cut through diamonds. "You're staying here. That's it. Am I understood?"

The team sauntered after her. This bad mood wasn't going to be fun to handle.

"Sorry man." Rigsby whispered as they passed him.

Lisbon was a lousy liar. And, since she met Patrick Jane not too many years ago, she's made peace with it.

So she didn't lie. She just conveniently left out some important details.

Like, despite the fact the team she was free-lancing on was professional and pleasant, they were also cold and distant and foreign.

Like the supervising agent was an egotistic creep who ogled her in plain sight without blinking an eye.

In the team back at the CBI it was like a little family. There were traditions and inside jokes and playful punches and quips.

And everyone called her "Agent Lisbon". Which wouldn't be a problem if they didn't pronounce her name wrong almost every time.

Oh, how she hated it here.

When lunch time came she went to the little bistro around the corner where she always had coffee when she lived here and ordered her something for lunch. When Jane called she was sitting there, munching on a chicken mayo toasted sandwich.

She wanted to seem busy and content so that he wouldn't feel bad that he was sort of to blame that she was here.

She was feeling skeptical about his plan, especially after it backfired so violently.

She missed him so much. She missed his off-beat, unconventional methods. She missed lunch with him. She missed stealing kisses when no one was looking.

Looking at her watch she notices that lunch hour was rapidly passing. She signaled the waiter for the cheque and sighed heavily.

This was turning out to be one of the longest days of her life

She deserves this. Oh yes, deserve this she does.

In the last few days that Whitman has worked here, Jane has observed that twenty minutes before lunch time she calls the same take out place and orders the exact same thing.

By lunch time, a delivery boy from the Oriental Deli two blocks over would saunter to her office, carrying a brown bag smelling of mild curry.

Not too long before the time she usually called, she calls into the office. Van Pelt (ordered to stay as my babysitter, a fact she's not all too happy about) answers.

The volume on Van Pelt's cellphone is high and Jane can make out most of the conversation from his position on the couch.

They've just finished, are tackling the long drive back. She also just called her deli and the delivery boy would be over in about twenty minutes. She won't be back yet, but she's hungry enough to want her food there waiting for her. So she asks Van Pelt to tell the delivery boy to just leave it on her desk.

When Jane hears this, a wide smile spreads on his face. As soon as Van Pelt hangs up he jumps up and grabs the phone out of her hand.

She scowls at him. "What the hell, Jane?"

He shushes her, dialing and holding the phone to his ear.

"Hi, Oriental Delicatessen? My boss, Agent Andrea Whitman, just called you. She ordered a mild curry with rice? Yeah, she asked me to change it. See, she's interviewing a suspect right now so she can't call you back. She's decided to try something a bit different. What's your spiciest curry?" He winks at Van Pelt who's face is a mixture of disbelief and bliss.

"Yeah, I know it's not her usual, but she lost a bet." The man at the other end seemed to understand now and accepted the change of order.

"Thanks so much. Yeah, still here at the CBI. Thanks."

Jane hung up.

"That was devious."

"She knows."

Van Pelt's brow furrowed. "About what?"

"About Lisbon and I. Our relationship. She followed me yesterday and took pictures. She sent them to Hightower. Teresa's horribly upset. She's in San Fransisco now, working freelance."

"Oh, Jane. I wondered why you haven't gone to meet her. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. But now I'm more determined than ever to get Whitman out of our hair and Lisbon back where she belongs."

A shrill screech filled the air of the bullpen.

The heads in the bullpen turned to Whitman's office. Whitman was rushing out the door, towards the kitchenette, where she grabbed the first thing that seemed liquid and gulped it down.

This, incidentally, was Jane's scalding hot tea, which Jane had just finished making moments ago.

The hot liquid burnt her throat and caused her tongue to go thick and numb.

The team rushed in to see what was the matter and came in to a sight of Whitman heaving waving at her burning mouth.

"Agent Whitman! What's wrong?" Van Pelt was quite the little actress if she wanted to.

"My… my curry was hot." She heaved.

Jane chuckled. "Well, Whitman, correct me if I'm wrong but isn't curry supposed to be hot?"

"Not like this… You must've added something…" She pointed her finger accusingly at him.

"What? Me? I was with Grace the entire time you three were gone!"

"Yeah, boss, and you ordered it yourself." Rigsby pointed out.

Whitman didn't seem to know how to react to that.

"Maybe the deli just got your order wrong." Jane winked as he walked off.

**Haha, she got burned! Thanks for reading and please review! I need more ideas for pranks…. Love you all!**

**Zanny**


	13. Chapter 13

**Red Road: Chapter 13**

**Thanks all for reviewing! Last chap's reviews equaled my personal record of reviews for a fic (48 reviews for 12 chapters, equaling my other fic 'Colourful Dreams'). I'm so happy and grateful for the response! Thank you all!**

**Also, thanks Jisbon4ever (Laura) for the hair-thing. Unfortunately, not pink. I have just a bit of mercy… Oh, who am I kidding, I didn't even fool myself! **** But seriously, it's another colour. I just love reviews with ideas, as this chap will prove! **** You rock for reviewing! :)**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. **

She arrived much later than him at the apartment.

He used the (lonely) extra time to prepare a home-made dinner for her. Nothing special, just steak and vegetables, but he knew that was her favourite. He lit candles and bought expensive wine from the store.

When she arrived, he immediately knew she was too tired for romance tonight. Damn.

"Hey sweetheart." He greeted her with a sweet kiss. "Hard day?"

"Yeah. That and I just drove two and a half hours in terrible traffic. My shoulders are killing me!"

"Come sit down; let me rub your shoulders." She plopped down on the couch next to him, taking a wine glass from the coffee table and filling it with the deep red liquid, while he started to massage her shoulders.

"You're really tense…" His tone was worried.

"It's the traffic. Don't worry about it, baby." She turned to kiss him comfortingly. "Do I smell dinner?"

"I made you something to eat."

She raised an eyebrow. "Patrick Jane, were you going to seduce me over dinner?"

"What? No! We've been over this, that'll be sophomoric!" He takes a sip from her wine. "No, my dear, my plan was to seduce you over dinner, wine and an old movie. But seeing how tense your shoulders are and how tired you are from your first day, I don't see that happening. Just like my morning fooling around didn't happen…" He murmured the last part, like a child pouting.

She pouted at him apologetically. "I'm sorry you're feeling ignored. I'll make it up to you tomorrow night…" She kisses his ear, promising.

He smiled. "Hmm… I'm looking forward to it. Now, let's eat, my dear. If we carry on like this, I'm going to end up taking advantage of you in your tired, vulnerable state and you won't get any sleep tonight."

She chuckled. He led her to the dinner table for the delicious dinner.

After they ate, she took a hot bath and they went to bed.

They fell asleep in each other's arms.

Another morning brought him waking up alone to a note.

Another lonely bowl of cornflakes; missing their breakfasts together, morning kisses and her scolding him to hurry up or they'll be late.

But this morning also brought a new observation – one that will help to push Whitman off the edge.

Dark roots.

Her long blonde hair was growing out, revealing dark, mousy brown roots. He really shouldn't be surprised. It was a common fact that most golden blondes of her age dyed their hair to get it to that shade. Those born with the shade's hair often darkened with age, turning almost brown.

Whitman noticed the roots as well, running her fingers through her scalp as she passed the mirror in the locker room. She silently cursed herself for waiting so long to remember to dye it. It looked horribly tacky, the golden, almost platinum blonde shade with the dull brownish roots. Yup, it was time to make an appointment at the salon.

Jane lay on his couch when he heard her talk on the phone.

"What do you mean, you're full? What about tomorrow? No? Damn, it's urgent. No, don't worry about it; I'll just do a home job. I've done it before. Thank you."

A bright smile spread over Jane's face. He jumped off the couch and headed out.

"Where are you going?" Rigsby asked from behind his desk.

"Supermarket."

As Jane walked through the aisles of the supermarket, he thanked whatever higher powers there was that he wasn't a woman.

The entire right side of the aisles was packed with hair dye. Different brands, different shades, different sub-shades, different sub-sub-shades… Goodness, was all this necessary?

He knew Lisbon didn't dye her hair. Her raven hair was all natural. Just one of the things he adored about her.

Finally, he found the perfect shade.

This was going to be so good!

He waited until the end of the day, when Whitman went to her routine check-in with Hightower. Since the recent drama the two have been checking in way too often for comfort, Hightower obviously nervous about the reaction concerning Whitman.

He sneaked into Whitman's office. Immediately he made way to her disgusting pink handbag, to him, a symbol of her inadequacy to this job.

As he expected, he found a packet of hair dye in it, in Honeysuckle Blonde. She picked it up during lunch hour, when she went out to the Oriental deli. Since the incident, she's been going to it instead of ordering in, where no one can tamper with her order, and if it's wrong, she can shout at the waiter.

He quickly opened the box, careful not to damage it, and took out the little plastic back inside of it with the dye inside. He replaced the bag with the identical one he bought himself.

Smiling mischievously, he carefully closed the box, leaving no signs of tampering, and put it back in the purse.

He slipped out of her office before anyone could notice.

When he came home, she was late again.

He sighed, sitting on the couch. He wasn't getting any tonight, either. She was going to be too tired after insane hours of sitting in traffic. This was getting strenuous on their young relationship. This was the honeymoon period! An insane amount of sex was practically compulsorily.

He heard keys in the door and got up to greet her.

She jumped into the room. Yes, literally jumped.

"Hey baby!" She practically jumped him, lunging herself into a deep, passionate kiss.

"Woah! What's with you, aren't you tired?"

"Tired? I just had, like, three cups of espresso on the way here!" She continued the kiss, hands running up to his curls.

"Teresa!" He chuckled as he broke the kiss.

"What?" She looked up at him. She wasn't accusing or angry… she was confused. "Baby, I knew I was going to be tired, and I didn't want you to feel ignored or disappointed or…"

She stopped stuttering when she heard him laughing. "Why are you laughing?"

"You… you are too precious! And I love you." He kisses her, not with the urgent fervor of her kisses, but sweetly, tenderly.

"I love you too…" She managed between kisses. "Now get upstairs, if I don't get moving I'm gonna start vibrating in place!"

**Thanks for reading! Please review! Next chap: Find out the shade of Whitman's hair tomorrow! **** Bwa-ha-ha-ha! (That's an evil laugh, by the way. A very evil laugh. I wish only evil on this horrible creation of mine…) ;)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Red Road: Chapter 14**

**Thanks to my fantastic reviewers! You guys rock! Like… rock stars! You guys are reviewing rock stars! So keep rocking out! **

**Disclaimer: *insert sarcastic comment on how I don't own the Mentalist or the damn fine Simon Baker… Damn it, now I'm depressed! I hate disclaiming…***

He woke up with her in his arms.

"Morning sleepyhead!" He poked her nose, waking her up. Her heavy eyelids reluctantly fluttered open.

"Mm… morning." She smiled and stretched her arms above her head.

"Aren't you late?"

Realization struck her and she nearly jumped out of the bed, grabbing whatever was on the top of the heap and pulling it on.

"What, no underwear?" He asked, amused.

"Shut up, Jane! It's your fault I'm late in the first place."

"Hey, why are we back to 'Jane'? And it's so not my fault. I would've let you sleep, but you were the one drinking insane amounts of coffee and jumping me." He smiles fondly. "If you need an excuse I give my permission to tell them your freakishly sexy, charming, amazing, Adonis-like boyfriend kept you up all night with… activities…" He changed his sentence at the last moment, his smile dropping off his face when he saw her death glare.

"My freakishly sexy, charming, amazing, Adonis-like boyfriend better shut his mouth or he'll never see activities again." She glared.

"Ha! So you admit it!"

She pulled on a shoe and grabbed her hairbrush with her, quickly leaning over the bed to giving him a quick peck on the lips goodbye.

"Love you!" She yelled behind her as she dashed down the stairs.

He plops down on the bed, thinking '_How did I get so lucky?'_

* * *

He is lying on his couch, the picture of pure innocence. His eyes closed peacefully, his hands folded on his chest.

Unbeknownst to the team, his mind is going crazy with activity.

She'll be here any second…

When he heard her high-heeled footsteps down the corridor his one eye opened.

"Ah, Agent Whitman…" He slowly rose. "I've been meaning to ask you… My goodness, what are you wearing?"

Whitman looked down to her feet, her patience obviously strained this morning. On her head was a black knitted hat, pulled over her head, over most of her forehead and down under her neck.

"I was in a mood for a hat today…"

"Well, I wouldn't wear it at work, my dear. You look like Bob Marley."

Her face turned red.

"What are you hiding, Whitman?" He raised his eyebrow suspiciously, though he knew exactly what it was she was hiding.

"Even if I _was_ hiding something, it would be none of your business."

Rigsby and Cho walked in with Hightower on that (perfectly timed) moment. Rigsby nearly choked on his laughter.

"Ahem… Agent Whitman, what's with the hat?" The evil glare she gave him proved once again this wasn't Lisbon they could joke and laugh with.

"Excuse me, Agent Rigsby?" She asked incredulously.

"Sorry." He mumbled, his head now hanging.

"I agree with him, Agent Whitman. Do you mind?" Hightower motioned at her hat.

Slowly, reluctantly and with a pained expression on her face, Whitman raised her hands to the hat and slowly pulled it off.

The sight even left Jane gaping and staring.

Her (previously golden) curly locks were now bright blue. Like the cookie monster.

Laughter was swallowed with effort, snickers escaping all around the bullpen.

"Oh… wow." Hightower was evidently speechless. "I think… I think the hat's better."

Whitman muttered a thank you and quickly retreated to her office.

Hightower nodded and walked out, obviously wanting to escape the tension in the bullpen.

They were silent for another few seconds. Then all hell broke loose.

Everyone broke out in hysterics.

Van Pelt's head fell down on her keyboard, Rigsby slid down the wall into a sitting position. Even Cho started chuckling wildly, grasping onto the side of his desk for support.

Jane was going crazy. He clutched his stomach and rolled off his couch. He plopped onto the floor, but that didn't stop his hysteric giggling.

"She… Her… blue…" Rigsby managed to stutter between laughs, tears running down his cheeks.

"Shhh, don't laugh, you guys, she…" Van Pelt snorted un-lady-like. "She can hear us, shush…" She tries to calm them down, not even managing to calm herself.

After several minutes of this, they finally started to calm down.

"Okay… let's try and be sensitive. This happens to most women at least once… And we really need to be sensitive. So… stop laughing, Rigsby!"

Rigsby swallowed his last giggle and made his face serious again.

"Right. Back to work."

* * *

"Blue."

"What? Patrick?"

"Blue. Her hair is blue." Jane barely stifles another giggle.

"Oh, Patrick. What have you done?"

"What? Me? What would make you think I did anything?"

"What do you mean her hair is blue?"

"As in, her hair is bright blue. Like the cookie monster blue. I'm thinking of leaving a chocolate chip cookie on her desk tonight. If she'll catch the joke."

"How on earth did you..?"

"I didn't…"

"Patrick, don't lie to me."

"I might've tinkered. Nothing morally questionable, my love. Nothing for you to worry about. I just wanted to tell you the hilarious news."

"Well, thanks for keeping me up to date. I really miss the team, it doesn't feel the same."

"Yeah, I could tell yesterday."

"Really?"

"I can always tell with you, my love… I miss you. We all went to lunch since Whitman took away pizza. We went to our café. It's different without."

"Well, I can't say I'm disappointed that you miss me… But I have to go now, we're off to interview suspects."

"Okay, I love you…"

"Love you, baby. Good luck with the rest of the day!"

Jane smiled as he hung up. These daily phone calls with Lisbon have become his saving grace these last few days. Hearing her voice was enough to calm him down enough to keep him from stealing Rigsby's gun off his desk and shooting Whitman in the head.

Not seeing her was driving him insane. Today was going okay because he had a phone call as well as waking up with her in his arms. Plus seeing Whitman looking like the cookie monster. Blushing like an idiot.

Jane was ripped from his thoughts by Cho, calling for him.

"Jane! Whitman wants to see you. She's in her office."

Jane wordlessly made his way to Whitman's office. When he got there, she was sitting behind her desk, her hat on her head again. One curling blue lock has escaped and was dangling in front of her forehead. He had to keep himself from chuckling.

"Agent Whitman?"

"Jane. I'm going to ask you nicely. Did you have anything to do with this?" She pointed up, in the general direction of her head.

"With what? Your… hair?"

"No, you moron, the ceiling. Yes, my hair! Did you, or did you not, somehow make… this mess happen?"

"How could I possibly make that happen? I'd have to infiltrate your home and switch your hair dye. Or maybe just sneak your handbag… I wouldn't know. I'm assuming it was a home dye-job. These kind of mishaps rarely happen at professional institutes."

Her cheeks were becoming red again.

"Whitman, really, I think you're becoming just a twinge paranoid. What's that you're working on?"

He peered over to the papers on her desk.

"These? Oh, these are just the papers produced by all the other trouble you caused me. Really, do you just have a compulsive… _thing_, to just make trouble wherever you go? I honestly don't know how my predecessor handled you…" She started nibbling on her fingernail, a nervous habit. She also didn't mention Lisbon's name.

_Good to know she learned her lesson about mentioning her last time…_ Jane thought.

"Well, we're all going out to lunch. Want us to bring you some cookies back?"

She glared.

_Well, at least she's got enough human in her to catch a cookie monster joke._

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Please review, rock stars! **


	15. Chapter 15

**Red Road: Chapter 15**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

**

"Baby, are you okay?" When he arrives home, she's sitting on the couch. Her head in her hands, tears dripping down from her cheeks, droplets making their way down her forearms.

When she hears him, she immediately straightens herself, wiping her face.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

He sits down next to her, hugging her tightly in his arms.

He whispers in her ear: "You can tell me. Hard case?"

She shakes her head. "No. Just a bad day."

"Did something happen?"

"Never mind, it's nothing, really." She smiles reassuringly, but it doesn't do much to calm him down.

"Tell me…"

"Well, uhm… You know the supervising agent I told you about?"

"Yeah..?"

"Well… he… he, uhm… He took me aside this morning." Something in her tone and expression made him shiver and go cold.

"What did he do?"

"He just… He said some things that…"

"Did he touch you?" There was fury in his voice now.

She nodded.

Jane was at his feet, pacing angrily. "I swear I'm gonna kill that son of a…"

"Patrick… hush…" She's up with him, pulling him to her. "It's okay. I put him in his place. I just… It threw me a little, that's all. It's nothing, really, I'm just being oversensitive."

"You are _not_ being oversensitive. Teresa, if he touches you again… or even says something that makes you uncomfortable… you tell me, I'll break every bone in his body!" His eyes were on fire, anger blazing in them.

She doesn't say anything, just holds onto him for dear life.

He takes a deep breath, not wanting to freak out further in front of her. He rubs soothing circles on her back and whispers into her hair.

"I promise, I'll take care of it. You'll be back before you know it… I promise…"

* * *

He strode into the office determinately. After reluctantly letting Lisbon go to work this morning, his determination to get her back was double-fold.

"Madeleine." He curtly greeted, making his way into her office without knocking.

"Patrick. You know, it's customary to knock before you enter."

"This can't go on any longer. Something…" He hesitates. "Something happened. I can't have Lisbon working in San Francisco anymore. So I'm delivering an ultimatum. Either you bring her back, or I quit. Until I receive an answer, I will be on 'strike', if you will. I refuse to help close any cases whatsoever. You have until the end of the day to give me an answer."

He walks out as abruptly as he came in. She yells back at him to come back, but he ignores her.

He makes his way to the bullpen.

"I'm on strike." He simply announces to the team, and then goes to lie on his couch.

"You're on what?"

"On strike. It means I will not help close any cases until they bring her back." He didn't need to clarify further. They all knew who the 'her' was that he was talking about.

"So you're just going to lie there all day?" Rigsby asks.

"Yup."

"How's that any different than normal?"

* * *

"Come on, Agents. We've had a break in the case. We have to go arrest the brother. Mister Jane, we'll need you for this. Get up."

"No."

Whitman raises an eyebrow, surprised. He's been reluctant to help since her arrival, but never anything less than charmingly annoyed with her. He was being curt, angry. And he wasn't moving.

"Get up, Jane."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm on strike."

"On… That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard!"

"Too bad. Goodbye now, Agent Whitman."

"Agent Whitman. I need to talk to you." Hightower walks into the bullpen.

"I'm sorry, Agent Hightower, we're about to go out to arrest a…"

"Innocent man!" Jane shouts out, interrupting her.

Hightower glares at him where he lies on his couch, his eyes remaining shut at all times.

"Send your agents out. You and I need to have a little chat first. Jane, for goodness sake, get up from there and help them!"

"Sorry, Madeleine, no can do. I've already given you my terms."

She sighs exasperatedly. "Jane, if you think you can manipulate me into bringing your girlfriend back on payroll just because you're being stubborn, you are dead wrong!"

This makes Jane go off, shooting up and standing his man in front of her, his fists balled at his sides.

"This is not what this is about! Let me clear this up: Teresa Lisbon is the only thing that keeps this pitiful job worth coming in for. She turned this group of random people into a team, into a _family_. You want to know the real reason this is the top team in the CBI? Not because I close cases like a fiend. Because that woman has turned this team into a group of people who care for one another. Who work together seamlessly like a well-oiled machine. Because _that woman_ puts up with me despite of anything. And that makes us work, that makes me work! And if you haven't noticed, the team is suffering without her."

He huffs out a breath, spent from going off like that. The team is silent, looking down awkwardly. They know all he said was true, but they never thought anyone could say it to their boss' face. Let alone _scream_ it in their boss' face.

Then, his calm mask slipping back on, he sits back down on his couch and resumes with his previous activity – feigning sleep.

* * *

**Ooh… It's coming to an end now, only a few chaps left… But this is the longest fic I've ever done! 15 Chaps already? Blows my mind. Love all of you for your fantastic reviews and reading! Please keep on keeping on! **

**Keep reading: Will Hightower finally make a decision? Will Lisbon return to the team? What will become of the blue-haired witch?**

**Zanny**


	16. Chapter 16

**Red Road: Chapter 16**

**I know I promised, quote: "a few chaps", but I think this one is it. It'll end real fluffy, I promise, to make up for ending. Thanks to all my loyal readers and reviewers, you are awesome on legs (I presume, unless you're a half-lorry xyborg…)**

* * *

"Agent Lisbon, I find this very unnerving to say. At first I was determined not to bring you back, but… Mister Jane made some very good points. And the team has been suffering without you here. It's plain to see. So… assuming that you're not too occupied at the SFPD… I'm not going to beg."

Lisbon smiles. She knew this was hard for Hightower, admitting she made a mistake. "I'd be glad to come back, Agent Hightower."

"Also, since it had come to my attention that you and Mister Jane has started a relationship. I looked it up in the CBI handbook and technically, because Patrick is a consultant, it isn't against the rules. But, if I hear anything about you two bringing your personal lives into your professional lives, I will not hesitate to fire you again!"

"Understood… Uhm, may I ask? What happens with Agent Whitman?"

"Agent Whitman wasn't comfortable in the Serious Crimes Unit team. She came to me, very upset, and asked to be transferred."

"Oh."

"Oh indeed."

Hightower nodded solemnly. She was clearly not very happy that she had to apologize and bring Lisbon back after making such a scene over her dismissal, but relieved that things were back to its relatively peaceful state.

"You can go now."

* * *

Lisbon walked into the bullpen, smiling brightly and greeted by cheers and hugs.

"We missed you, boss!" Van Pelt hugged her, smiling.

"You wouldn't believe how Whitman tortured us! She took away case closed pizza! It was horrible!" Rigsby's face distorted in disgust.

"I heard. And I'm very happy to be back and see all of you again. I'm sorry for the drama and leaving so abruptly, but you can imagine how upset I was. But, that's all in the past now. And we've got a case, so let's get back to work!" There was a bit of a sag in the room, an anticlimax from having their beloved boss back to having to go back to work. "And then I'll take everyone out for pizza. My treat."

Cheers in reply, and scuffling back to desks.

"Jane, can I talk to you for a minute in my office?"

Jane smiled, getting up from his couch where he was observing the scene with a gigantic, bright smile on his face.

"Of course, my dear."

He followed her into the office, she softly clicked the door closed.

She snaked her arms around his neck and gave his a sweet, soft kiss. "Thank you."

"For what."

"For bringing me back. Even if it's kind of all your fault I was fired in the first place… But still, thanks." She smiled, teasing him.

"It was a pleasure, my dear. Admittedly, this wasn't my finest moment. But this journey… discovering this…" He motioned between the two of them. "I'd do it all over again."

"Don't though."

"I won't."

They smile some more and she kisses him again. He tries to deepen the kiss by pulling her up two him, but she breaks it.

"Nuh-uh-uh, we're at work. No hanky panky at work!"

"What? No hanky panky?" His brow furrowed with the disappointed expression of a child.

"But… if you're good… and don't upset any important people until tonight…" She speaks slowly, her arms still around his neck and her fingers playfully fiddling with the hairs in the nape of his neck.

"Oh no. I'm going to have to be really good to get some, aren't I?"

"Yup."

"Well, that's a raw deal!"

She chuckles at his childish demeanor.

"Get outta here, smartass."

He smiles charmingly. "You love it."

He pecks her quick before retreating.

She leans against her desk, watching him leave. This was one hell of a dramatic journey. But Jane was right – the relationship with Jane she's discovered along the way made everything totally worth it.

END

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**THANKS FOR READING! You people rock! Thanks to all the regulars, you people make my LIFE!**

**Review. It's what all the cool kids do.**

**My Jisbon-loving love,**

**Zanny**


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